A Lioness in the Desert
by bookaholic6
Summary: Drabbles centered around Myrcella's time in Dorne. Mostly Trystane/Myrcella.
1. Just a Pawn

Disclaimer: I do not own the Game of Thrones series.

* * *

They told me I was a princess, that I was important, someone who _mattered_.

Someone who was a player in this mad game of thrones.

But now I know, as I watch Ser Arys' head get sliced off in a spatter of blood and all of Arianne's beautiful, perfectly laid plans crumble into dry, bitter ashes and the blood run through my fingers like red wine, that I was never a player.

I was just a pawn.

A foolish, naïve little pawn, and a stupid, trusting little girl.

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A/N: I think Arianne Martell isn't that bad of a person, but I hated how she just callously used Myrcella to get what she wanted without even thinking about the fact that she would most likely die. Anyway, please review!


	2. Still Beautiful

A/N: Some fluff to counterbalance the previous angst.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Game of Thrones series.

* * *

The lying she hated most of all.

Myrcella could bear the pitying smiles, the compassionate clucking, and the sorrowful whispers.

But she hated their lies, told straight through their teeth, even as they grimaced in disgust and tittered condescendingly in corners.

"Oh, I can barely even notice your scar!"

"My, it's healing up so nicely, isn't it?"

"You can hardly see it if you put this on."

"Don't worry, sweetling, you still look beautiful!"

She stared numbly into the depths of the mirror as they chirped sweet nothings and fluttered around her. Liars, every single one of them. She knew she was hideous.

* * *

Trystane hadn't come to visit her, not even once. In the beginning, she'd asked for him, but after gentle rebuffs and noncommittal maybes, she knew that he wasn't ever going to come see her. Fine by me, she thought angrily. She didn't need him anyway. He couldn't even play cyvasse that well.

* * *

As far as prisons went, the Water Gardens weren't too bad. Oh, Prince Doran had told her that he was keeping her under 24 hour supervision and forbidding her from even sticking her head out of the window for her own _safety_, but Myrcella wasn't stupid, however much everyone else thought she was. The Water Gardens were a cage, albeit a beautiful one. The best part about this cage, though, was that it kept others out. There was nobody here besides the prince and some of his court, so it was easier to be alone and make sure no one saw her ugly face.

* * *

The other children mostly stuck to the pond in the inner courtyard near the prince's balcony. She wanted to be there too, but after the first day of stares and silences, she had retreated to the outer layers of the garden. It was actually a large maze, and she spent most of her mornings wandering around in search of blood oranges and admiring the exotic flowers. She liked the calm and peace of the plants. They didn't look at her strangely or judge her.

* * *

She would have heard him coming if she hadn't been dozing off on an old bench she'd found under a shady tree. Trystane wasn't exactly subtle.

"Where have you been, Cella, I've been looking all over for you!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. He grinned at her and held up a board. "We can play cyvasse again."

His face was devoid of the agonizing blend of pity and repulsion she had come to expect, and he seemed sincere, but still she jerked away from him.

"You must be dumber than I thought then. How have you been looking for me if you didn't even come visit my room once?" she snapped with as much scorn as she could muster, attempting to channel her mother at her fiercest. Crossing her arms, she turned away from him, so he wouldn't be able to see the tears gather.

"I-I wasn't allowed to see you," he muttered, sitting down on the bench and patting her on the arm awkwardly. She stiffened and yanked her arm away. "My father said that you weren't to be disturbed because you had to heal quickly. I should have come to see you earlier, but I was afraid you'd be angry with me."

"Why would I be mad at you?" she asked, surprised, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He coughed apologetically. "Because of my sister, and how she, um, got you hurt."

The scar, she thought wearily, it always comes back to the scar.

Abruptly, she whirled around to face him completely for the first time.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" she asked bluntly. All the while, she searched his face for even a flicker of disgust or revulsion or hatred. But all she saw was bewilderment at her sudden question and concern and friendliness.

"No," he said softly, leaning forward and running his fingers over her scar. "I think you're still beautiful."

She smiled and moved over to accommodate the cyvasse board as he swiftly set up the game pieces.

For some reason, she didn't think he'd lied.

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A/N: Wow, I really hadn't intended it to be this long, but I just couldn't stop! Sorry if Myrcella seems a little OOC, but she doesn't have her own POV chapter, so I felt I could take some liberties with her character. Please review!


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